Aspirin or Morphine
by AliasCWN
Summary: Hitch makes a surprising decision that could affect his survival.
**Aspirin or Morphine**

By: AliasCWN

It had happened again. They were on a routine patrol. Nothing special, just another day in the life of the Rat Patrol. The Germans had sent out another convoy of fuel and ammunition. Sgt. Sam Troy had spotted the convoy from a distance and they had decided to prevent as much fuel and ammo as they could from reaching the entrenched German troops. To the men of the Rat Patrol, that meant a hit and destroy attack on the convoy. Fast, furious and deadly to the trucks carrying flammable cargo. Hit hard and get out. Just another job, one they had done dozens of times. But despite their experience, or perhaps because of it, they all realized how easily it could all go wrong. One zig when you should have zagged. One German a little better with a gun. Any of the Germans getting in a lucky shot. And that's what happened.

Hitch had handled the jeep as well as he ever had. No one could say what he or anyone else had done differently. It was just one of those things, something you couldn't really explain. He had done his best to present a difficult target. Maybe if he hadn't been good, the results may have been much worse. As it was, it was bad enough.

After they broke off the attack Troy had noticed his driver holding his side and leaning heavily. He watched anxiously as the blond fought the wheel, trying valiantly to control the path of the jeep over the rough ground. Holding it with only one hand, the steering wheel jerked with each bump. The sargent watched their back trail praying the Germans hadn't decided to chase them. He wanted to find a safe place to pull up and check on his driver.

Tully forged ahead and found a knoll that would provide them with adequate shelter. Leading the way, he picked the smoothest route possible, mindful of the erratic progress of the other jeep.

The minute Tully stopped Moffitt was reaching for the medical kit underneath the seat. Tully pulled a machine gun from its' holster and ran back to the top of the hill to keep watch for any unwanted company approaching.

Hitch stopped his jeep and shut the motor off. Before Troy could lean down and grab his shoulder, the injured man slid out of the seat onto the ground. He landed in a pile with a thump and a groan. Troy was beside him in an instant, rolling him onto his back. Moffitt rushed over with the medical kit clutched tightly in his hand.

The blond was unconscious, limp and pale. A pool of blood was already forming under his prone body. His entire left side was soaked as his life slowly drained out of him onto the desert sand.

Troy ripped his shirt up so Moffitt could see the wound. Jumping to his feet he reached for a canteen to clean the area and assess the damage. He poured the water carefully over the hole in the ribcage, watching as fresh blood welled up to take the place of the blood he washed away. Moffitt ripped open bandages, pressing them against the wound, trying to slow the bleeding.

"Are you ready for the sulfa powder?" Troy had watched as Moffitt had worked to stop the flow of blood.

"No. Not yet." The Brits reply was cryptic. His entire focus was still on his task. The flow had slowed but the bandages were still a bright crimson, the clotting had not yet had any effect on the amount of blood Hitch was losing. Moffitt put more pressure on the wound, desperate to stop the blood loss. "The sulfa would just wash out with the blood. We need to get that under control before we can do anything else." Moffitt finally explained his terse answer to the other sargent. "He's losing a lot of blood Troy."

"Is there anything I can do?

"Put a blanket under his head and something under his feet."

Troy hurried to do what Moffitt had suggested. While he was at it, he grabbed an extra blanket to wrap around the young soldier to help keep him warm when he went into shock. Then he sat back and allowed the helplessness of the situation to sink in. He hovered over Hitch and Moffitt, itching for something else he could do to help.

"Troy, I'm ready for the sulfa powder now. Could you pour it on for me?" Moffitt still held pressure on the wound, waiting for Troy to tear the sulfa packet open. He carefully lifted the gauze so Troy could dump the powder over the hole. Blood began to soak the powder right away. Moffitt slapped the gauze pad back into place and wrapped a long strip of the cloth around Hitchcocks' body to hold the pad firmly. Troy helped as much as he could, gently lifting the limp form so Moffitt could reach around him. Finally finished, Moffitt wiped the blood from his hands and surveyed his handiwork.

"How is he?" Troy knelt next to his driver, his face full of concern. The youngster was pale and breathing heavily. His slack face glistened with beads of perspiration.

"Not good. He's lost a lot of blood. The bullet went clear through thankfully. I don't think it hit anything vital. I can't be sure about that though. There may be internal bleeding. He needs a doctor but I don't think we can move him until we're sure the bleeding has stopped. We may have to rest here for a bit."

Troy looked around at their sanctuary. "It's not a bad place. We can see for quite distance. We can fashion a shelter to give him shade. I'll relieve Tully and he can set things up. He'll want to see Hitch."

Moffitt nodded his agreement. He sat down next to Hitch and waited for Tully. As soon as Tully walked over he filled him in on the situation and told him what preparations were needed.

Tully gripped his friends' hand and squeezed it gently. He didn't know if his buddy could feel it or not. He decided it couldn't hurt to let Hitch know he was there.

Moffitt had eaten and was sitting with Hitch. Darkness had fallen and the blond was still unconscious. Tully was on watch again. Troy curled in his blankets by their tiny fire and tried to get his brain to calm down so he could get some sleep. It wasn't easy. His thoughts kept going back to the scene by the jeep as Moffitt had fought to stop the blood loss.

"Troy." Moffitts' call interrupted his thoughts. "He's awake."

The sense of relief was immense. Sam Troy rolled out of his blankets and hurried to the makeshift lean-to.

"How's it going?" Sam could see the flush of fever on the pale face. He reached for an arm and gave it a squeeze.

"I'm fine Sarge." The voice was weak and barely audible. The short answer was followed by a brief but violent bout of coughing.

Moffitt shot Troy a look of concern.

"Don't try to talk. Moffitts' got the bleeding stopped and we're going to let you rest for a while before we take you home. Troy tried to sound as upbeat as possible without offering false hope. One thing he always tried to do was to be honest with his men.

The blond nodded with a grimace. He sucked in a breath and clenched his jaws. Troy watched as his eyes slid shut, a small tear escaping from one corner.

"When did you give him his last dose of morphine?" Troy looked at Moffitt, knowing that the other man would understand the reason for the question.

"I don't want any!"

"What?" Troy and Moffitt were surprised by the blonds' outburst.

"I don't want any." Hitch repeated, more quietly this time. "Don't give me any morphine."

"Hitch." Moffitt started to argue.

"No. I'm okay. Just let me sleep." Hitchcock shook his head, trying to push them away.

"At least take a drink of water and a sulfa tablet."

Hitch agreed and Moffitt carefully held the canteen and supported his shoulders so he could swallow the antibiotic sulfa. His entire body shook with exhaustion as he settled back into his bedroll.

"Would you take some aspirin for the fever?" Moffitt studied the sweaty face, alarmed by the grey pallor of the skin.

"Yeah. That would be good." Troy noticed his drivers sigh of relief as Moffitt offered him the aspirin.

"Take three. You're running a fever."

The blond swallowed the pills before collapsing onto the sand. His breathing slowed as he fell into a restless sleep.

Troy motioned Moffitt to follow him with a jerk of his head. The two walked away from the sleeping private to a distance where their voices wouldn't disturb him.

"What's wrong? Why won't he take the morphine?" Troy drilled Moffitt with a steely glare.

The British sargent shrugged, at a loss for an answer. " I don't know Sam. I gave him some when I first dressed the wound. It's wearing off now. I think he needs more. It's never been a problem before, I can't explain it."

Troy stared back at the restless form under the shelter. He could hear the low moans as the fever ravaged his body. Without the morphine the boy would go downhill fast. The trip home would be rough enough on him with morphine, Troy wasn't sure he'd survive to make it home without it. Making a decision, he picked up a machine gun and went to relieve Tully on guard.

Tully glanced at his watch as he saw Sam Troy headed his way.

"What's up Sarge? You're early."

Troy walked past him to stare out into the desert beyond their camp. He wasn't sure how to tell Tully what he needed. Finally he turned and met the young Kentuckians puzzled look.

"Has Hitch been acting strange lately?"

Tully shook his head, confused. "Not that I noticed. He seemed fine to me. Right up until he got shot that is." He glanced toward the shelter where Moffitt was bathing the fevered body of their friend. "What's wrong Sarge?"

Troy shook his own head. "I don't know. He's refusing morphine."

"Why?" Tully was shocked.

"I was hoping you could tell me."

"No Sarge, I don't have a clue." The young private tried to remember if there had been anything he had missed. "Why would he do that?"

The sargent sighed. "I don't know Tully but it worries me. It's going to be rough getting back to our lines. He's going to need that morphine."

"Can't you just give it to him anyway?"

"Yeah we could. I just wish I knew what was going through his head. I'd feel better if he was a willing participant." He studied the younger man in silence. "Do you think he would talk to you?"

Tully turned again to look down at the camp. He didn't look at Troy as he slowly nodded. "I'll try." He returned to the camp with a serious expression on his face. He crawled under the shelter and nodded wordlessly to Moffitt. His eyes never left the face of the sleeping blond. Moffitt handed him the canteen and cloth and moved out of his way. Tully settled onto his knees next to his injured friend and began to bathe his face and chest.

Moffitt crawled into his blankets to rest before his turn at watch. He kept hearing the panic in Hitchcocks' voice as he refused the morphine. A panic that had never been there before. Hitch had never had any adverse reaction to the pain killer. He'd always seemed to welcome the relief it offered although he'd never actively sought the medication. Hitch was not one to complain or ask for pain meds. It was a puzzle he felt he needed to solve if they were going to help their young friend. He fell asleep still at a loss to explain the sudden aversion to morphine.

Tully talked quietly to Hitch, trying to keep him calm. The blond was tossing restlessly. Every time he cried out, Tully would hold his shoulders down. He feared the wound would reopen if Hitch didn't stay still. Hitch groaned again and tried to roll to his side. Tully held him in place, urging him to go back to sleep. The fever was higher now than it had been earlier. Despite the constant wipes with the wet cloth, Hitchs' face and chest were covered in beads of sweat. Tully pulled the blanket up around his shoulders so the cool night air wouldn't give him a chill.

"Tully." It was barely a whisper. Hitchs' eyes were open but he wasn't looking a anything in particular.

"I'm right here buddy. Can I get you anything?" Tully brushed the blond hair out of the pale face.

"Water."

Sliding his knees under the other mans shoulders, Tully helped him take a few sips out of the canteen. He had to pull the water away as Hitch tried to get more. "Easy. You can't have too much. You'll get sick."

Hitch sighed and relaxed. His expression was so slack that Tully checked for a pulse. He found one but it was weak. Hitchs' breathing was shallow and slow, barely there. Tully debated letting him go back to sleep, he obviously needed it. Then Troys' words came back to him. Hitch needed to take the morphine if he was going to make it home alive.

"Hey Hitch….." Tully waited for the blond to reply. "Hitch."

"Yeah?"

"Why don't you let Doc give you a shot of morphine?"

"No!"

The force of the denial surprised Tully. He sat in silence trying to figure it out. Without a clue to the problem, he had to ask. "Why not?"

"Can't." Hitch was starting to drift off again.

"Why not?" Tully persisted.

"Don't want to get addicted. They'd kick me off the team." Hitch looked up at Tully with desperation in his eyes. "Please Tully, don't let them give me any."

"Hitch." Tully shook his head. "You're not going to get addicted to morphine. You need it for the pain." He tried to get through to Hitch to make him understand.

"No. I don't need it Tully. I can do without it." Hitchs' voice was getting weaker. He reached for Tully but his hand dropped short of Tullys arm. He closed his eyes and groaned.

As Tully watched he slipped into a troubled sleep.

Troy ducked under the shelter to find Tully sleeping next to Hitch. He gently shook his shoulder and jerked his head at the outside. Tully nodded and followed him out.

"Did you talk to him?"

Tully nodded. "Some. He's awfully weak. I ask him why he wouldn't take the morphine."

"And what did he say?"

"It didn't make any sense." Tully tried to remember Hitchcocks' exact words. "He said he couldn't take it because he would get addicted and get kicked off the team. He kept saying he didn't need it. He could do without it. Like it was something that had already happened." Tully looked at Troy with a question in his eyes. "He's not addicted to morphine. He only takes it when he needs it."

Troy nodded. "Then why is he suddenly worried about becoming an addict?"

"I have no idea."

"Well I think we need to find out."

Tully agreed but he wasn't sure Hitch was going to be able to answer that question, at least not right now.

"Sarge….he asked me not to let you guys give him any morphine." The dilemma this presented was not lost on Troy.

"Get some sleep Tully. We're going to have to get Hitch to a hospital or aid station tomorrow."

Tully nodded and headed for his bed. He was asleep in minutes. He was still sleeping when Moffitt gave Hitch a shot of morphine.

Tully was up early preparing breakfast for everyone. He made coffee for Troy and tea for Moffitt. He carried a cup of coffee into Troy who was sitting with Hitch.

Troy looked up at Tullys entrance and reached gratefully for the coffee. "Pack up after breakfast, we'll be moving out."

Tully nodded and studied Hitchs' sleeping form. "You gave him morphine didn't you?" Hitch was resting quietly. He still looked pale but his breathing was more even.

Troy hesitated before he answered. "Do you really want to know?"

Tully bit his lip and shook his head. "No. I don't think I do." He crawled back out of the shelter and began to clean up the camp so they were ready to pull out. Once everything was ready he relieved Moffitt on guard so the sargent could eat his breakfast and enjoy his tea.

"Tully, let's go."

Troy called Tully from guard duty and waved him to his jeep. Moffitt sat in the back of Troys' jeep supporting Hitchcocks still form. Tully stopped long enough to peer into his friends face before he climbed into his own jeep. Hitch still looked peaceful, sleeping quietly. Tully couldn't find it in his heart to fault his sergeants.

Tully was sitting next to the bed when Hitch finally opened his eyes. It had been three days since their return to the base. The doctors had been non-committal about the blonds' chances of survival for the first two days. It had been another close call.

"Tully?"

"Yeah it's me. How are you feeling?"

"Okay. Tired." Hitch confessed. There was a pause as he tried to compose his thoughts. "Thanks Tully."

"For what?"

"For not letting Sarge give me any morphine."

Tully hung his head. He didn't want to look his best friend in the face. His own face must have given him away because Hitch was staring at him with wide eyes when he did look at him.

"Tully?

"I'm sorry Hitch. I was asleep when they gave it to you." He tried to explain his failure to keep the drug away from his friend. He let the silence reign as he let the guilt wash over him. When he looked up, Hitch didn't look upset.

"I guess it's okay. They aren't giving me any now are they?"

"No."

"Then Ii guess I'm okay. The doctors would know if I was addicted wouldn't they?"

"Why would you think you were an addict anyway. I don't understand. You've never had a problem saying no to it." Tully shook his head. "Heck, you even said no when you really needed it." He looked at Hitch, a hint of desperation in his own eyes. "Look Hitch, I have to be honest here. Don't get mad, but I knew Sarge was going to give you morphine after I fell asleep. He didn't say it, but I knew. And to be completely honest, I wanted him to. You were in a lot of pain and you had a fever. You needed something stronger than aspirin. I wanted to help. That was the only way I could think of to help you. I know I let you down, but I did it for you! Sarge and Doc did it for you!"

"Did what for him?"

Tully turned to find Sam Troy and Jack Moffitt standing in the aisle between the rows of beds.

"I told Hitch about the morphine. I had to Sarge. I couldn't lie to him."

"Don't worry about it Tully. We were going to tell him." Troy watched Hitch trying to gauge his reaction.

"It's okay, I guess there was no harm done." Hitch gave Troy and Moffitt one of his smiles. He reached out to squeeze Tullys arm.

"Actually it was just the opposite." Sgt. Moffitt remarked. He pulled a chair up next to the bed and sat down. "Hitch, what's going on? Why this sudden fear of morphine?"

Troy moved to stand next to Moffitt to show solidarity.

"Talk." He ordered.

Hitch looked around to see who else was in the tent. Most of the beds were empty since there hadn't been any major battles for weeks.

"I was visiting a couple of guys in the hospital before we went out."

Hitch paused and Troy and Moffitt both nodded encouragement.

"There was this guy in one of the beds. He was kind of crazy. Happy one minute, talking about suicide the next. Sick a lot. He was always throwing up." Hitch paused again, remembering the scene.

"Why was he here?" Moffitt prodded gently.

"Self-inflicted gunshot wound."

"Oh I see, he wanted to get out of the fighting." The British sargent wasn't sure how it applied to their problem.

"No. He wanted morphine. They gave it to him when he was wounded. Once he healed they stopped giving it to him. The only way he could get more was if he got shot again." Hitchs' blue eyes were wide at the very thought of what the other man had done.

"So he shot himself to get more morphine?"

"Yeah. He needed it. The docs said that he'd had too much and now he needed it. I saw what he was going through Sarge. The sweats, the chills, nausea, crying and begging for some more. He's done Sarge, they're sending him home."

"But he's not you Hitch. You aren't like that. You refused the morphine."

"But look at all the times I've had it Sarge. I get hurt and I get morphine. It could be me!"

"Not everybody is the same. Some people get addicted easier than others. You aren't one of those."

"But what if I do? They'd kick me off the team. I keep seeing that guy. I don't want to be like that."

"Look Hitch, we wouldn't let that happen. We would notice if you started asking for it. We would notice if your habits changed. We could alert the doctors before it became a problem." Troy tried to reassure his driver. "Why don't we talk to the doctors? Maybe they can help you understand the risks. They can tell us what symptoms we need to watch out for. You don't need to give up morphine until there is a problem. Chances are, there never will be. You never were one to take unnecessary meds."

"You really think so Sarge?" The blond ask hopefully.

Troy nodded and smiled. "Let's talk to your doctor."

Hitch nodded reluctantly. "You really would know if I were having a problem?"

"Hitch, we're together almost all the time. You complain less than anyone I know. If you start to complain, we'll cut you off and haul you off to a doctor. But it's not going to happen." He finished confidently.

The blond finally nodded, his decision made. "Okay Sarge, we can talk to a doctor. They ought to know. But there's just one thing…."

"What's that?" Troy ask warily.

"Can we do it later? I'm kind of tired right now?"

Try laughed and met Moffitts' smiling eyes. "Yeah Hitch, it can wait."


End file.
